Sweet Dreams
by jagkwtf
Summary: George thinking of his twin after Fred's death. Drabble. Slash. Twincest. All that good stuff.   One-Shot


**Authors Note: ****Hey.. so.. I'm not exactly sure what inspired me to right this. I usually DESPISE fan fictions that have to do with Fred's death because he's one of my favorite characters, and the fact that J.K. Rowling split up the twins like that burns a hole in my soul. So, the fact that I actually wrote a huge ass one shot about it, seems a bit odd. It was probably because I was talking to someone about death fanfics and how much they SUCK right before I started writing. Coincidentally, after both of us agreed on how horrible and torturous they are, we both ended up writing them. xD**

**Also, as a side note, I wrote this at around 5:30 in the morning, so sorry if it's random and/or terrible. I thought it was pretty good, but even still, let me know if something doesn't make sense or whatever. ^-^ **

**Rating: **T

**WARNING**: Heavily implied slash ((twincest)) and DH spoilers ((obviously xD))

You'll have best friends in your life. You'll laugh and share memories and you'll feel like you're having the time of your life. You're parents are there, smiling and telling you it'll be okay and that life will go on, but they don't understand. Not like a twin does. They're not just your sister or brother. They're your best friend- scratch that, they're more than that. They're your other half. Two beings sharing a soul. That's how the Weasley twins were. Fred and George, the pranksters. The ones that always brought a smile to the family, no matter what the situation was. It was Fred and George. Never just Fred, or just George. That's why it was such a shock when George came running and found his beloved lying on the cold tile, cool pale skin, and a faint smile brushing his lips.

George didn't know what to feel; what to say. So he didn't. He sat next to his other half, holding tightly onto the red-head's hand. He could feel the presence of his family and friends standing around him. He wanted to ask them to leave, but couldn't seem to remember how to speak, so he stayed quiet.

The twin thought about all the two had been through. All the times they broke into Percy's room and stole his prefects badge. George gave a small laugh as he remembered when Percy had caught them a few weeks before, they had scribbled all over his badge and on his summer assignments, and how insanely funny his face looked, scrunched up, cheeks burning a dark red.

Life would never be the same, that was for sure. For once in his life, George didn't feel that familiar warmth of body heat from the boy that was always at his side, smiling brightly. He couldn't hear the familiar, almost harmonic, laugh that so often vibrated next to him.

In the long run though, George didn't regret a single thing. Except one. For as long as he could remember, Fred was always there. Laughed at his jokes, praised him when he pranked little ickle-Ronnie-kinz (George laughed rather loudly here), and wiped his tears when he cried. If he were to spend his life with anyone it would be with the particular ginger he had grown so close to. He never admitted this aloud though, of course. He was never really fond of girls anyways, he decided. But he could never tell his brother such things. Even if they were twins, and if anyone would understand it'd be Fred, he just couldn't imagine ever doing so. Having said that, George never expected what happened to happen. He never thought he'd be sitting here, heart cracked in shards, contemplating his life story. He had always just assumed the chance was always there. To tell him how he really felt. How his heart burned like it was being assaulted with hot embers when Fred would bring Angelina home, as he often did. How his chest ached whenever Fred would take his hand, as he often had, and lead them to their room, off to conduct another genius master plan on how to successfully rule the wizarding

world.

The surviving twin could feel hot tears deep within his eyes, slowly making their way to the surface. He brushed the dirt encrusted hair out of his twin's closed eyes.

"He looks so peaceful," he thought. "Beautiful really.." George smiled slightly. He could almost hear his twin scolding him for being such a baby. "You're so stupid," Fred said, grinning. "What're you crying for?"

George wiped his face on his sleeve, sniffling a bit. "What does it look like? What'd you have to go and leave me for?"

An image of his twin burned itself into George's mind. He was smirking, and his eyes sparkled like they always did when he was up to something.

"Don't do anything too fun without me, okay?" George said.

Fred laughed. "I dunno George, this place is looking pretty cool, I don't know if I'll be able to control myself." Fred sniggered and George rolled his eyes.

Their 'conversation' was interrupted when a hand was lightly placed on George's shoulder.

"George..?" The twin sniffled, wiping his face on his sleeve again, realizing suddenly that he was sobbing. "It's time to go," the voice spoke again, gently. George looked up and he and his mother locked eyes. Both had tear streaked faces, but his mother's was slightly paler than his own. He nodded once, not really wanting to leave but knowing he had to.

Molly squeezed his shoulder and walked away, toward Arthur who was sitting with the rest of the Weasley's, Harry, and Hermione. They had all said their goodbyes to the lost family member and were now sitting quietly in the corner, unsure of what to do.

George turned his gaze back to his twin, wet streaks ran down his face. Every tear resembling another reason why he loved Fred so much and all the memories they shared that now seemed worthless. He scanned the boy's face, his gaze finally resting on the small smile he wore. How he wished Fred would just laugh and sit up already. The joke was getting old, it wasn't funny anymore.

"C'mon, Fred," George muttered. "Sit up already. This isn't funny." The twin was sobbing harder now, his hair stuck clumsily to the sides of his wet face and he hung his head. He leaned over slowly, their faces a few inches apart now. "I love you," he breathed, kissing his twin gently on the lips. He pulled back, tears still flowing. All he wanted was for him to kiss back, and the jagged cuts his soul had faced grew deeper as he knew it would never happen. He let go of his brother's hand before finally moving from his spot as he stood up. He brushed his jaw-length hair out of his face and wiped his tears out from under his eyes and off of his face. He turned slightly, about to walk away, but not before he smiled at his twin one last time.

"Sweet dreams."


End file.
